A New Sort of Plan
by LissaRose234
Summary: Confronted with magical legislature and an unexpected tragedy, Hermione plunges into the unknown and takes a route no one ever could have anticipated. Marriage law fic, but with a twist. M for strong language and possible future lemons.
1. Prologue

_Miss Hermione Jean Granger,_

_As you of all people are very well aware, the war of the past year has caused the magical community a great many losses. England's magical population suffers even still from hundreds of deaths from both sides, and our already weak numbers are dwindling. Our world as we know it is at risk, and may come to an end if our population does not stabilize._

_It is for this reason that I have consented to a new decree. Though I am sure your initial reaction will not be one of pleasure, I know that, given some thought, you will come to agree with me and see that this is the best option. An offical Ministry letter will be arriving shortly with the details, but as a friend, as a man who fought alongside you, I felt I owed it to you to give you a bit of warning. Please know that you and other top contributors to our success in the war will be given a high priority in the Matching. _

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic_

Hermione raised a single eyebrow as she stared down at the beautifully written note. It had arrived just minutes before, carefully attached to the leg of a handsome screech owl, one that had also delivered similar envelopes to Harry and Ron. The three of them had crowded around one end of the kitchen table in the Burrow, sitting close. It was a habit they had unconsciously developed, to be close to one another when they recieved potentially bad news. But Hermione Granger wasn't sure if this news was good or bad. She looked up at them now, and huffed a bit impatiently as she waited for them to finish reading so they could discuss what Kingsley might have meant.

"And what exactly is it that he's warned us of? He never so much as hinted about what he was talking about," Harry finally grumbled.

"No..." Hermione said, glancing back at the parchment. "He said: 'you and other top contributors will be given a high priority in the Matching'..." she trailed off, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Matching?" Ron repeated.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Hermione muttered, scanning the letter again for anything else that might help. The population was low, there would be a 'Matching' and she probably wasn't going to like it... her mind was going a hundred different directions at once as she tried to puzzle out how these ideas were connected.

"'If our population doe not stabilize'..." Harry mumbled, glaring at the letter as if commanding it to explain the situation in full.

Her head shot up at the sound of a tapping on glass. With a strange sense of foreboding, she approached the window and unlatched it, letting the Ministry owl fly into the room. It stared into her eyes as she removed the packet of letters from its leg, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn the damn thing was smirking at her.


	2. A Simple Case

**AN: Hello loves! I know this update came quickly, but the prologue is short so I was worried about not being able to keep people's attention so I'm back haha. Don't expect all updates to be same-day.**

**Yes, this is a Marriage Law fanfic. I know the idea is cliche but I've always had my own idea of how it would all happen, so I'm trying to do my own take on it so you're not reading the same thing you have a million other times.**

**Also, I forgot to do an author's note for the previous chapter, but, as I'm sure you guessed, I don't own anything but my own plot. The characters and world belong to our dear JK Rowling.**

**Enjoy!**

_**Due to a rapid decline in the magical population, the Ministry of Magic has decided to issue Post-War Decree 318, which declares that all 'single' witches and wizards between the ages of seventeen and thirty-five must find a Ministry-approved marriage partner. The details of this decree are as follows:**_

_**1. Witches and wizards have exactly six months from this date to select a spouse and have submitted their decision to the Ministry, and exactly nine months from this date within which to be married.**_

_**2. Witches and wizards will be tested for health and fertility as a part of the eligibility process, and if they are determined to be fertile, have two years after marrying to become pregnant. After that point, if the witch is not pregnant, both partners will have their wands confiscated for a period of six months and the witch will be fertilized magically.**_

_**3. As part of their physical examination, the strength of the witch's or wizard's magical ability will also be tested and this information will be kept confidential. However, should a witch and wizard who both possess little magical talent attempt to marry, the Ministry reserves the right to reject a match.**_

_**4. Witches and wizards will be expected to make appointments with the Ministry (appointments are to occur within the next seven days) to set up a personal profile containing glimpses into the personality and expectations of the witch or wizard. Once this profile is complete, it will be distributed to any opposite gender eligible witch or wizard who requests it. **_

_**5. Once profiles have been reviewed and potential spouses have been selected, marriage proposals must be submitted to the Ministry, who will then contact the prospective bride or groom. Each witch or wizard will receive a list of their proposals, which will automatically update with new or 'expired' proposals (proposals that are withdrawn due to a change in interest or an accepted offer from another witch or wizard). Should a witch send an offer to a wizard who in turn sends one to her, both parties will be immediately notified and given three days to make a final decision. If a witch or wizard finds themselves in this situation with more than one potential spouse, the Ministry requests that, as an act of consideration, they personally notify those whose offers they choose in the end to reject. **_

_**6. Though the Ministry is aware that this situation is not ideal, it is necessary and magical marriage is meant to be treated with respect and given the utmost effort. Therefore, divorces will not be granted until ten years after the date of the wedding. Both partners will be expected to remain faithful from the moment they become engaged and through the duration of the marriage, and the consequences for cheaters will be severe.**_

Ron Weasley couldn't believe his luck. Of course, the Marriage Law hadn't exactly been expected, but it had all worked out well. For them anyway. When they'd found out two weeks earlier, he'd been shocked. After all, they had risked their lives for the freedom of the magical community, and now his generation was being robbed of theirs, simply because they'd survived and now had a 'responsibility'. Hermione, of course, had been furious. It had taken days for her to calm down, and by the time she wasn't shaking with rage every time the Ministry of Magic was mentioned, it was time for her appointment and she was angry all over again.

Ron hadn't thought the process itself was such a big deal. It was simple, really. A witch or wizard was to meet Ministry officials in a private office, where they would be examined by a Healer and tested for disease and fertility, and if their health proved satisfactory, they sat down for an interview and brief photo session. All this information would be collected and placed into a file, which could be copied and sent out upon the request of potential spouses.

Of course, Hermione had wanted to marry him (but, she sniffed angrily "on my own terms"). He understood her reasoning, to an extent, but couldn't help but laugh at her childish behavior. It reminded him of an incident when he was four, when he'd played in the mud and his mother had insisted he wash his hands. He'd argued, even though the gritty dirt was beginning to make him uncomfortable, and when he had eventually given in, he'd glared over the sink and told his mother "I _wanted_ clean hands, this isn't because you told me to mummy!"

Naturally, being members of the "Golden Trio" (Hermione always scoffed at the nickname the media had given them, but Ron rather liked it), they and Harry had all received countless marriage proposals but Ron and Hermione had quickly accepted each others, just as Harry had happily taken Ginny's. Both matches, though expected, had made headlines, and the happy couples had chosen to lie low at the Burrow and their respective flats, to avoid the blinding flashes of the cameras that followed them everywhere they went.

Not that staying home during their free time had meant that they were left alone. Far from it. Molly Weasley was beside herself with happiness, and seemed to feel a constant need to pop into the flat he and Hermione shared to plan the wedding - when she wasn't working on perfecting her only daughter's nuptuals.

Ron smiled as he walked into the Auror's office, thinking of Hermione, who had fallen asleep over her paperwork again last night. Since the war had ended, she'd been using her newfound political influence to push for house elf rights, and had spent many a late night hunched over her desk. She'd decided to take a bit of a break after the war, to avoid the hectic after such a long time of anything but. Her work with the elves had started as a hobby, but had quickly become a full time job, which was fine by him. This was something to keep her busy while she was safe at home. As an Auror, Ron knew very well that there were still plenty of Voldemort's followers out there, and none of them harbored warm feelings toward his fiancée. He knew that soon the quiet of the house would be too much for her, and she would want to get back to her dreams of being a Healer, but he was hoping (in vain, he knew) to be able to convince her to stay at home, and maybe raise some children.

His grin widened at the thought of having children with Hermione. Of course, he knew she'd be annoyed by his 'sexist' point of view, but that was part of what drew him to her. She was loud, she was opinionated, and she was his. Finally, she was all his. She would be his wife. The mother to his babies. And the very thought made him ecstatic.

He was still smiling when he walked into the conference room for their morning meeting.

"What's got you in such a good mood mate?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Out of instinct, Ron almost said something vulgar, but he knew that if Hermione heard he'd been talking about their sex life, she'd be mortified and would probably be angry at him. So he ignored the urge to make Harry uncomfortable. "I'm just happy," he shrugged. "I mean, I know the Marriage Law isn't really fair, but it works just fine for me. Hermione and I were kind of an inevitable thing, but you know how she is. She probably would have waited years to finally accept me, so this just speeds everything up."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Harry smiled.

Ron laughed. "No, you don't, mate. Ginny proposed to _you_ two months ago, remember?"

Harry grinned. "What can I say? I'm irresistible."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Sure you are, Harry. Sure you are."

An hour later, Harry and Ron had received their new assignment. It was going to be a simple one, they'd tracked down one of Voldemort's many underlings and had to bring him in. According to their information, he'd had a low rank because Voldemort hadn't deemed him very useful. They'd already brought in at least a dozen like him, lowlifes with the impression that their meager contributions to Voldemort's cause had been crucial. They had attitude problems but weren't much of a threat.

They'd gotten an anonymous tip as to the whereabouts of one Zander Danby, a pureblood from a less known family that had chosen the Dark side in an effort to climb up the ranks.

They apparated to the edge of the woods just meters from his back door. They quickly decided that Harry would enter first, with Ron protecting his back, and they crept up the back steps. Harry pressed his ear to the door and listened intently.

"There's definitely someone in there," he mouthed to Ron. He threw the door open. "Left!" he yelled to Ron.

Ron leapt into the room, just a step behind Harry, and immediately looked to his left, where Danby was staring at them with an expression of both outrage and confusion. He quickly disarmed him, snatched up the other wizard's wand, and magically bound him in a matter of moments. He glanced at Harry who began to speak.

"Zander Danby, you are under arrest for aiding and assisting Voldemort and for not coming forward when prompted to. This will be easiest for all involved if you just come quietly," Harry added, almost pleadingly. They both stared at the man for a long moment. His hair had grown past his shoulders, but was thinning and clung together in greasy stands. His robes were worn and muddy, and the man was thin, all indications that he'd been in hiding for awhile. He was a small man, only reaching to Harry's chin, and he was glaring up at them with narrow eyes.

"Why the hell should I make it easy?" Danby snarled. "I didn't do anything wrong! My Lord needed me, and of course I helped him. He needed support in taking out those filthy Mudbloods," he sneered, grinning a yellow smile at Ron. "Like that bitch of yours. Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. I'd be worried about you dirtying up your bloodline with the likes of her, but the Weasleys already ruined their name when they betrayed their pureblood status," the man said, spitting on the ground as he said Ron's surname.

Ron was seething with fury but fought the urge to charge at the man. Instead, with a flick of his wand, the magical ropes tightened and cut into his grimy flesh.

Danby winced and scowled up at him. Harry caught him under the elbow and hauled him to his feet. As they approached the door, Ron froze.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Harry came to a stop too, and listened. They heard the creak of old floorboards being stepped on. They turned toward the noise and were alarmed to see a woman standing there, her eyes flashing with fury and wand at the ready.

Before either of them could react, she'd blown them away from Danby. Harry slammed into the door and crumpled to the ground while Ron was launched into a storage cabinet. She rushed forward and grabbed Danby's arm, and with a loud crack, the pair were gone. However, both men seemed unaware that he had vanished and the room was still.

Harry Potter slowly stirred back to consciousness. His head hurt like hell and he was sure he'd have a bruise, but that didn't matter now. He sat up quickly (much too quickly, he realized, wincing) and looked frantically around the room, confirming his fears. Danby was gone. Months of tracking and he was right in their hands, literally, and now gone. That stupid bitch had taken him. Damn. And he didn't even know how long he'd been unconscious, they could be _anywhere_ by now.

"Who the hell_ was_ that?" Harry roared, picking himself up off the ground. He turned toward Ron and his eyes widened.

His friend was bleeding, a lot. His mouth was open, his eyes wide and terrified, but he couldn't seem to speak. There were shards of glass around him, and a quick glance at the cupboard told Harry it had been used to store potions. Highly dangerous potions, he now grimly realized. He grabbed his friend, trying to be fast but also gentle, and apparated them to St Mungos.

"Fuck!" Harry hissed as the Healers bustle around him, shouting orders as they rushed to save his friend's life.

"What?" one of the female Healers slowed down just a bit.

"My hand stings," he muttered, ashamed. He hated to be a distraction from Ron, but it _really_ hurt and he suspected something was wrong.

The Healer snatched up his hand and gasped. "You touched him, didn't you?" she demanded to know as she dragged him down the hall. "I need more of the antidote! This one's localized, so I won't need much!" she yelled.

"He got Potter too?"

"No, it's on his hand. Must have transferred when he apparated."

By this point, Harry had actually inspected his hand. After the war, and seeing so many of his friends bloodied and still, the idea of blood nauseated him in a way it never had before. Of course, with his job he often encountered it, but he avoided seeing it whenever possible. For this reason, he hadn't even looked at the source of his pain. Now that he had, he wished he hadn't.

Some sort of neon green colored potion seemed to be eating away at the flesh of his right little and ring fingers. He gaped, blocking out the pain as best he could and watching with a morbid fascination as the offending potion dissolved his skin and muscle tissue.

His Healer rushed forward and dabbed a thick white potion on his hand. He felt instant relief. "It looks like you'll need a bit of Skelegrow to heal the bone damage, and some complicated healing spells, but your hand should be okay. With any luck, you'll get by with minimal scarring."

"And Ron?"

"Like I said, minimal scarring," the Healer said quickly, and smiled to herself, apparently pleased with her work.

"What about Ron?"

She sighed. "Mr. Potter, I'm truly sorry. We're trying as hard as we can, but the potion spilled on his upper body. It got on his arms, where you touched it, but also on his chest and stomach. He's suffered severe heart and lung damage. We can't heal him quickly enough to make a difference. It's only a matter of time."

**AN: For those of you who noticed the Ministry specified "opposite gender" couples, please know that I am certainly not homophobic. However, it should be noted that the magical community is quite traditional, so same sex couples are very unlikely to be embraced. And, of course, the whole point of this decree is to produce babies, which same sex couples cannot do naturally.**

**I know that the thing with Ron happened quickly, but it had to. For the sake of the plot. You all knew this was going to be Dramione, so I hope you're not devastated or anything.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading. If so, please review. If not, review anyway and tell me why :)**

**But seriously. Please review. I already have had someone follow this, and two others favorite it (which is kind of shocking as much as it is flattering, honestly, since the prologue was only 500 words), and not one review. Sad author. I need feedback, good or bad.**

**~ Lissa**


	3. Eternal Silence

**AN: Hello all! Thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it. Here's the next chapter, and *cough cough* it would be really nice to get some more lovely reviews!**

**I apologize in advance if this chapter is sort of all over the place. When I grieve, my mind goes a million miles a minute and I can't seem to focus on any one subject for very long, it's like I'm trying to remember and feel everything all at once. I tried to write like that for Hermione.**

**I don't own anything you recognize.**  
_

Bellatrix Lestrange could take her _Crucio _ and shove it up her bony arse, because Hermione Granger was absolutely positive she'd never been in more pain in all her life.

Every time she took in a wet, ragged breath, she was half hoping it would be her last. Someone had to know how much she was hurting. Perhaps they would take pity on her and just end her life. End the pain. End the grief. End her loneliness, and allow her to reunite with Ron.

As much as his loss overwhelmed her with sadness, she was also furious. At herself. In the days leading to his death she'd been utterly childish. She'd spent more than a week stomping around their flat, pouting about marrying him, even though she wanted to, more than anything - simply because she _had_ to wed out of legal obligation. She'd lost her temper and snapped at him more than once, and now that she really thought about it, she was horrified by the realization that, based on her foul attitude, he'd probably had the wrong impression about her views on their upcoming marriage.

And now they would never marry, and he'd never ever know how very much she'd have been honored to be his bride.

It had been four days since Ron's sudden death, and Hermione knew she was taking the news in a way most miserable. She hadn't left her bed unless her body had demanded it, and even then she clung to Ron's pillow, inhaling his scent.

At times it became clear it hadn't quite sunk in, and she'd find herself eagerly awaiting the sound of the floo at six o'clock, waiting for him to come home. And when she realized he wasn't going to, that he would never come home to her, her eyes would sting and her heart would ache and it became so hard to understand that this was her life now. She'd taken to staring out her window, focusing on a tree and watching intently as it swayed gently in the breeze. It was pathetic, but she needed some simple way to tie her to reality.

It was strange to her, to feel so out of control and weak. Just six months ago she'd taken on Voldemort and his followers without a moment's hesitation. She'd stared death in the face and she'd _laughed. _And now she couldn't bring herself to meet her (remaining) best friend's eyes.

She'd long since lost her voice to sobbing, and it didn't matter, because she had yet to come up with any words to describe what she felt. Not that there were many people to hear her say them, if the words ever came to her. She'd thrown out every sympathy bouquet, meal, and card that had arrived at their - her - flat. She'd been as polite as she could in shooing everyone to the door. She'd be fine eventually, she'd reassured them, she just needed some time to herself. Of course, that hadn't stopped Harry, Ginny, or Mrs. Weasley from showing up anyway. Hermione supposed she could have changed her wards and turned off the floo to prevent them from getting in, but a part of her craved human contact just as much as it did solitude.

They seemed to understand her, seemed to experience the same inability to vocalize their anguish. They'd sit silently beside her, holding her when she reached for them, and crying with her when she didn't. She knew that their patience with her mute act wouldn't last forever, but for now, the quiet around her was a comforting escape from the chaos of her mind.

Hermione closed her eyes and allowed another wave of grief to violently wash over her.

She was drowning. She was drowning and she couldn't breathe and she wasn't _ready. _She wasn't ready to be a widow before she'd had a chance to be a wife. She wasn't ready to let go of a life with Ron before she'd lived it. She wasn't ready to be alone. And she certainly wasn't ready for today.

She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to fight back the fresh tears welling up in her eyes as the significance of this particular day sunk in. She frowned, and furiously told herself that today wasn't of any importance. It was any old Thursday, and her life was normal. Ron would be coming home tonight, and she would kiss him tenderly before checking on the dinner she had prepared for them. As usual, it would be burned, dry, or both, but she would patch things up magically if she could, and if it was beyond repair, she would present Ron with a takeout menu and a cheeky grin. And later they'd make love and discuss their future together.

But as usual, she was quickly brought back to reality with almost painful force.

She heard the roar of the fire and the click of heels on the hardwood as someone stumbled into their - _her _- living room. She curled into a tighter ball and desperately clung to her comforter, pulling it in closer around her body. She kept her eyes closed and focused on making her breathing even and calm as she heard footsteps approaching her open bedroom door. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, they'd leave her be...

Gentle knuckle rapped against her door and her muscles tensed. "'Mione?" a timid voice said. "Hon, it's time. Are you ready?

Ginny Weasley stood at the door, helplessly staring at the blanket-covered lump that was her dearest friend.

Silence greeted her. The redhead sighed softly and took a hesitant step forward. "Hermione, I know it's hard, and I know I'll never understand how deeply you're hurting right now. But I know you, and I know you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it if you aren't there today."

Hermione sighed. Of course she was right. She slowly pushed the covers away from her and sat up, her hair falling around her in a tangled mess and her eyes burning from the constant shed of tears. She was cooperative, aiding Ginny when necessary, but her mind was elsewhere. It felt like she was a different person, watching from afar as her friend helped her dress, straightened her hair, and magically fixed her red, puffy eyes and made her look fresh and well rested.

Hermione clung desperately to Ginny's arm as the other girl apparated them to the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione blinked as lights flashed in quick bursts all around her, and looked around in confusion, and, if she was being honest, fear, as loud, overlapping questions were barked at her from all directions. After days of near silence, it was overwhelming to hear so many voices all at once. Ginny noticed that her friend was distressed.

"Oh back off or I'll hex you, you vultures!" Ginny hissed to the photographers. Few heeded her warning, and as Harry rushed forward to usher the women to their seats (they'd intentionally arrived at the last moment to avoid reporters as much as possible), the cameras were in a frenzy of frantic clicks and sporadic flashes.

The ceremony was lovely, and Kingsley did a wonderful job of officiating, but Hermione could hardly focus on it. She kept staring at the open casket just feet from her. Magic had done wonders to repair her fiancé's mangled features, but nothing had prepared her for how... _normal _he looked. He seemed to have a slight smile on his face, and with his eyelashes resting gently on his cheek, he could have been sleeping. In fact, she'd seen that same peaceful look on his face hundreds of times before when she'd woken before him and watched him slumber beside her a bit before waking him for breakfast. Several times she fought the urge to reach forward and attempt to rouse him.

At one point, Ginny had gently nudged her, snapping her attention back to the ceremony, and she'd realized that the time had come for people who'd known Ron well to speak. She'd quickly declined. She hadn't thought much about what she wanted to say, and the few words that immediately came to mind were far too private to be said in front of the huge crowd that had gathered to bury one third of the "Golden Trio". Instead, she just listened intently as some of her closest friends and even complete strangers stepped forward to express just how much her love had affected their lives.

And for a moment, it was as if she had never lost him. There were so many stories, some touching, some hilarious, and even some annoying, but all were undoubtedly entirely Ron Weasley.

She caught herself smiling a few times, but her faint happiness immediately disappeared when she was quickly blinded by the cameras the moment her lips began to turn up.

Soon, the crowd had gotten to its feet and were softly talking as the pall bearers stepped forward, gripping the golden handles of the beautiful box that held Ron. Hermione quickly turned her back on the scene and was immediately enveloped in a crushing hug by Molly Weasley.

"Oh, Hermione dear," the older woman sobbed. "How have you been holding up? You've been taking care of yourself, haven't you?"

Hermione pulled back and nodded, and ignored the sharp look Ginny threw her. She hadn't been treating her body the best she could these days, it was true, but she hadn't done a _terrible _job, and really, there was no point in worrying Molly.

She found herself being passed from embrace to embrace, each person mumbling generic words of comfort. Hermione just wanted it to be over with so she could return to her bed, which still smelled of Ron.

As Kingsley Shacklebolt pulled her to his chest, he spoke. "Hermione, I am so sorry for what's happened. The Ministry will of course be covering all funeral expenses, and anything else you need will be done for you, no questions asked. However, I need to speak with you privately as soon as you're feeling up to it. It's a matter of urgency."

Hermione nodded numbly and watched as the Minister of Magic disentangled himself from her and performed a quick Sonorus charm.

Kingsley's voice then boomed over the crowd, announcing that it was time for everyone to file out of the building and find their way to an apparition point so they could all meet at the cemetery that had recently been built for war heroes to lay Ron to rest. Hermione gasped and gripped Ginny's hand. Slowly, Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys all joined hands, forming a long chain and squeezing each other for comfort as they walked outside.

Hermione landed with a soft thud on the soggy grass. It had been raining for days, only adding to the melancholy of her mind. She stumbled a bit as her left heel sunk into the spongy earth, but quickly righted herself and moved forward to join Ron's closest friends and family as they formed a circle around his casket.

They joined hands, letting their magic flow through them, and began the incantations performed at all magical funerals. This ancient magic ensured that the grave would never be disturbed with ill intent (in rare cases, witches and wizards had to be exhumed if murder was later suspected), and never disturbed without the written consent of at least seventy percent of those who had performed the spell. It was called a Peace Circle, because the friends and family of the deceased wanted nothing more than for their dear loved one to be at rest.

As they fell into silence and watched the mahogany box lower into the earth, Hermione found it hard to breathe. This had certainly come as a shock, and now it was all too real. After the war, after they'd fought some of the world's most evil witches and wizards and had won, Hermione hadn't been too worried about Ron and Harry working as Aurors. Of course she'd known about the risks, but for the most part she'd brushed them aside. Ron and Harry made a great team, and they'd both already faced extreme danger and had easily overcame it. And as the months had passed and Ron and Harry both rose in status in the Auror department, as Ron had come home to her and told her stories of the wizards and witches he'd brought to justice, she'd only become more confident that not only was he going to be safe, but that there were few wizards better suited for the job than Ron (excepting Harry, of course). So when she'd gotten the news that her "invincible" man had been killed, completely by accident...

One by one, they all stepped forward and palmed a handful of dirt from the pile beside the grave. When it was Hermione's turn, she walked hesitantly toward the large hole and peered over the edge, frowning at how dark and cold it seemed down there. She took a shaky breath and flung the dirt down, watching it scatter over the polished wood. And as she stared down at the lonely final resting place of her first love, a raspy voice that she didn't recognize rose from her chest.

"I love you."

**AN: So there's that! Hope you enjoyed reading, now pleasepleaseplease review! I seem to have hit a plateau at 221 total views (138 visitors) for the last two chapters, and got a grand total of 5 each of favorites and follows and 4 reviews. 138 people saw it and I'm kind of sad that only 14 gave me any feedback of any sort. Sad author! I don't care if you don't like it, trust me, I can handle it, I just need to know WHY.**


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